Monday, October 12, 2009

I'm not a real "fast food" guy. I don't really love burgers, and I don't really love super fried or greasy things, and I realize that by making both of these statements it's very possible that the Department of Bro-land Security will revoke my man-certificate.

So, I was happy to see that Burgerville is now testing the coolest receipt ever. (Pictured at left.)

They're from company called Nutricate (tip: if you have to put a pronunciation guide next to your name, you need a new name). And, as you can see, they provide highly accurate nutritional info for your meal.

I mean, it's not surprising that tartar sauce is high on calories. But it was slightly surprising that Sweet Potato Fries were so much "worse" than regular fries.

Sure, there is some irony that you get this receipt after you've paid for your meal. But I say any nutritional education is better than none at all!

(Oh, and confidential to Burgerville: the only thing left to do? It's time to fix your interior design and remodel your stores. The sock-hoppy, jukeboxy theme of your restaurants is total disconnect from your modern, local, fresh message. You designed a great interior with Noodlin' (R.I.P.) — get those guys fixing Burgerville!)

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

So, we're in Japan, and we've just stepped off the train in Kashiwa, a very nice town in Chiba which also happens to be the home of Panic's Japanese HQ, which itself happens to be essentially a cozy apartment, which reminds me of Panic USA 1.0, except Noby and Kenichi don't live in the apartment, and the apartment is in Japan.

Anyway.

Noby wasn't there yet, so we wandered around the station a little bit, enjoying the good weather and banking on Cabel's First Rule of Japan: if you wander around anywhere in Japan for a little bit, you will come across something interesting. (This is also Cabel's First Rule of Everything.) So we came across something interesting:

...which despite have a semi-unfortunate acronym, was a collection of elegant, architecturally-cool buildings, possibly part of a temporary exhibition to excite the citizens of Kashiwa, with a nice wooden deck with some inviting café tables.

We sat down to catch a break.

A few seconds later, I heard some halted English coming from my left.

"Hello! Please come here!"

This was unusual for Japan, because although most Japanese city centers seemed to be filled with hundreds of unregulated and overdriven speakers, I've rarely, if ever, been beckoned in English and in person. It caught me off guard. I wandered over.

The cashier fumbled for the right words. "Please... buy something!"

OK, this was confusing, because up until this point nobody in Japan has ever outright asked — let alone strongly suggested — I buy anything, ever. In some regions of China, for example, it's normal to be followed for blocks by plucky street vendors, with sooty caps and using the Chinese word for "guv'nor" (省长), trying to sell the hapless tourist genuine 24k goldique watches, small angry turtles, expired pudding, Steely Dan CD-R's, and the like. But simply doesn't happen in Japan — just like it also probably doesn't happen in China either because I've never been there and this entire paragraph is based only on bad movies and stereotypes.

While I was a little uncomfortable, I didn't want to be rude. I grabbed a café menu, quickly translated some Katakana (you'll get surprisingly far in Japan by learning this phonetic alphabet!), and found something I kind-of almost.. but not really.. wanted.

"I'll take an orange juice, please," I explained, in poor Japanese.

"Hai!", was the eager response.

A few moments later, I picked up my orange juice.

Except it wasn't an orange juice.

It was an apple drink called "Appletizer", some weird candy, and a little card.

Yeah. Now I was confused.

The guys behind the counter and I immediately launched into a humorous, protracted, Englishanese attempt to understand what the hell just happened. Through judicious fumbling, and after a great deal of precise hand-waving and mangled pronouns, it turned out to be something like this:

At this cafe, you get what the person before you ordered. The next person gets what you ordered.

Welcome to the Ogori cafe!

As I sat down to enjoy my surprise Appletizer, loving this insane idea and wondering what would happen if you tried it in America, a Japanese woman approached the cafe. Since she could actually speak Japanese, she could read the large sign at the front and, fortunately or unfortunately, got advanced warning of what she was in for. Before making a final decision on what to order, she quietly snuck up to me to try to ask me what I had ordered, knowing that it would be her unwavering refreshment destiny. The staff put a quick stop to her trickery, and I didn't answer.

Of course, regardless of what she ordered, she got the orange juice I ordered a few minutes earlier. But here's one of the moments that make this experiment cool: she actually chose orange juice, just like I did. So she got what she wanted. Ogori cafe synchronicity!

Before we left, there was one last thing hat had to be done.

Mike went up to the cafe, slapped down a couple thousand yen (~$25), and ordered a little bit of everything: some ice cream, some snacks, some candy, some drinks, a Japanese horn-of-mysterious-plenty intentionally set up as a shocking surprise for the next lucky customer. (After his order, Mike received single iced coffee.)

As we walked away from the cafe, with just the right amount of delay, we heard an extremely excited "arigato goazimasu!! thank you so much!!" yelled in our direction, from an ecstatic mom and her equally excited young son. They truly appreciated the surprise.

It was so worth it.

For the record, here are the rules of the Ogori cafe:

Let's treat the next person. What to treat them with? It's your choice.

Even if it's a group of friends or a family, please form a single-file line. Also, you can't buy twice in a row.

Please enjoy what you get, even if you hate it. (If you really, really hate it, let's quietly give it to another while saying, "It's my treat…")

The Ogori cafe was an unforgettable travel moment, and an idea that has stuck with me: It was a complete surprise in our day. It encouraged communication between total strangers or, in this case, members of the Kashiwa community and a couple of weird guys from Oregon. It forced one to "let go", just for a brief moment, of the total control we're so used to exerting through commerce. It led you to taste something new, that you might not normally have ordered. It was a delight.

Then, according to Noby, as quickly as it appeared, the Ogori cafe was gone.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Can I just stop here, and can we be honest with each other? Does this kind of acting resonate with anybody? (As Steve noted, it's totally Shovin' Buddies! ) Are there people who can relate to — let alone enjoy — this video? And has there even been a more vibrant and tangible demonstration of the difference between Apple and Microsoft? Anyway.

Turns out, though, it's a lot more fun when you imagine these guys are helping you plan a... slightly different party.

Saturday, July 04, 2009

Somehow the tradition continues! While the funniest fireworks seem to have been in previous (2008) Yay! Fireworks installments (2007), this year's trip to Blackjack still yielded some amazing surprises. Enjoy.

OH MY GOD THAT GUMSHOE IS A DEMON FOR SOME REASON

But only just.

I truly enjoyed this Konami game on my Super Nintendo

Nothing says "Hollywood Trip" like Barbara Streisand's head floating next to a faceless man and Krusty the Chaplin

I enjoyed Dancer in the Dark but this new work left me a little underwhelmed. (LARS VON TRIER JOKE)

Or the eyes of everyone else around you, since it's, you know, a firework.

OK. Be honest. What did you think this was? (True answer: "Amazing Planet")

Special Bonus Feature

I've told you before about The Gauntlet: the long, treacherous stretch of Vancouver, Washington road that leads to two competing fireworks stands: Blackjack and TNT. Armed to the teeth with minimally-paid teenagers, and with an ever-escalating arms race of inflatable bouncy castles and discounted diet soda, The Gauntlet will not stop — nay, will not take so much as a single restful breath — until you make The True Choice on where to spend your fireworks money.

Friday, July 03, 2009

Let me be clear: I have no intention of this becoming a baby pictures blog. That said, I thought it worth noting to you, the cabel.name-interested, that, one week ago, we welcomed the arrival of Joby Finn Sasser, our brand new baby boy.

Already awash in the gaming world (which means he'll be a football broker, right?), here he's about to be wrapped up by Keita Takahashi's Noby Noby Boy. (And our cat.) This plush Boy was a totally amazing gift from Keita — if you can believe this, it was made by his sister! Joby also really loves Girl .

It just dawned on me that now, at one week old, Joby Sasser will already have a Google hit to his name — with a baby picture. Will this page still be here when he's 21? Will Google? Joby, if this is embarrassing to future-you, just send your dad a holographic e-mail, but set it to 4D — I probably haven't upgraded to 5D yet.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

There's a lot of photocopied flyers stapled on the telephone poles of Hawthorne Blvd here in Portland. The average diameter of each pole has literally extended by several KinkoInches advertising the inevitable weekend shows of Sidewalk Stalk, Dov's Houseboy, Korandom, I Don't See You But I'll Always Feel You, Emissionary Physician, Cedar Oak and Pine, Forebread, and other bands I just made up.

But one flyer, placed somewhat low with hand lettering even an indie band couldn't improve upon, caught my eye. You may be confused but not for long.

Jackoroma3 tells me that he's 14 years old, that he "likes food, likes creating websites, likes going on vacation", and has been gaming for five years.

He also has a website that pushes the limits of iWeb, offering Runescape advice that's surprisingly applicable to the real world ("GETTING ENOUGH MONEY IS NOT EASY JUST WORK HARD!") and self-critiques of his many, many videos ("PROBLEMS WITH GAME: (1) not a very good game").

Although I may not totally appreciate the videos — I know I would if I was 14 and played Runescape — I think there's something deeply, anachronistically beautiful about advertising a YouTube channel on a telephone pole.